The Challenge of Entail

by Jann Rowland

  When they finished dinner, the company spent a short time together in the music room, but even Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley’s playing was not enough to remove their thoughts from the situation. After a short time of this, Hurst suggested they adjourn to the study.

  “None of you seem eager to be here, and I would like some of Bingley’s excellent brandy. Speaking of the matter may bring clarity, or at least some measure of peace of mind.”

  The gentlemen all agreed to his suggestion and excused themselves, Mrs. Hurst wishing them luck in unraveling the mystery, while Miss Bingley watched without comment. Soon the four ensconced themselves in the study, lounging about on the various chairs in the room. Hurst poured himself a brandy as he had suggested, but when asked, Darcy decided against it. For whatever reason, he was feeling lethargic, and he knew the drink would dull his senses further. Fitzwilliam followed his example, though Bingley accepted a glass.

  “What makes little sense to me,” said Fitzwilliam, “is Wickham’s focus on Miss Elizabeth. In the past, he has never held a grudge against those he could not charm. He tended more toward forgetting them and moving on to his next target.”

  “That and the possibility of his capture seems greater here,” added Darcy. “The last several months have proven the efficacy of his ability to hide in London.”

  “I should have thought you searching for him would induce him to take ship,” said Hurst around sips of his drink.

  “Perhaps,” said Darcy, “but to do so requires capital, and I am certain Wickham has had little of that for some time now. And he has convinced himself he will make his fortune in England.”

  “It seems rather short-sighted,” said Hurst.

  Fitzwilliam snorted and said: “Short-sightedness is a defining characteristic of our Georgie. Else he might have made something of his life.”

  “It seems to me,” interjected Bingley, “that Wickham has always considered you a means by which he may procure the fortune he craves.”

  Though Darcy opened his mouth to protest, noting Wickham had always schemed to marry into wealth, among other plots, Fitzwilliam preempted him by saying: “I think Bingley may have a point. Yes, he has often set his sights on other targets, it always seems to come back to you. His attempt at Georgiana in Ramsgate points to that, as does his demand of money in lieu of the living, his renewed petition after, not to mention his actions in Cambridge and Lambton.”

  “This man made an attempt on your sister?” asked Hurst, eying Darcy with interest. “I have not heard this tale.” When Darcy hesitated, Hurst said: “Whether to inform me of the incident is, of course, your decision. If you choose to, you may be assured of my secrecy.”

  “Last summer, when Georgiana was in Ramsgate with her companion,” said Darcy, deciding in an instant that Hurst was trustworthy, “Wickham attempted to enter the house at night.”

  Hurst’s eyes widened in shock. “I can see why you would not wish it to become common knowledge. Do you know if he intended kidnapping or compromise?”

  “At this time, I do not know,” replied Darcy. “Compromise seems more likely, as it would have been difficult for him to spirit her from the house without raising the alarm. If he had reached her room, he could have demanded to marry her.”

  Fitzwilliam snorted with contempt. “Another sign of Wickham’s thoughtless insistence on his own infallibility. If he thought for an instant we would allow it, he would soon have discovered how wrong he was.”

  “How was he thwarted?” asked Hurst.

  “A footman in my employ, Thompson, was on duty that night and came upon him as he was making his way to Georgiana’s room.”

  “I have met that footman of yours,” said Hurst with a laugh. “This Wickham must have only just escaped with his life.”

  “If it had been me, he would not have escaped with that much,” muttered Fitzwilliam.

  “This sheds new light on the situation,” said Hurst, his tone thoughtful, as he swirled the amber liquor about in his glass. “I do not blame you for not informing me of the matter of your sister before, but when I learn of that, along with these other matters, including the money he received from your family, I believe Bingley may be correct. Wickham does seem to have a compulsion to extort as much money from your family as he can. The Ramsgate incident may be nothing more than an ill-conceived attempt to extort more.”

  “It is possible,” said Fitzwilliam, rising from his chair to pace the room. “We could never locate him after Ramsgate, and our questions have remained unanswered. Though marriage to Georgiana would have secured ready funds and served as personal vengeance against you, Darcy, I cannot imagine Wickham with a wife.”

  “It is an avenue to a life of ease he has attempted many times in the past,” disagreed Darcy. “For that matter, if he had succeeded with Georgiana, he could have left her in my care. He knows I would never allow her to suffer when it was in my power to assist.”

  “That is true,” said Bingley. “But it seems to me we have established his obsession with you, Darcy.”

  “We have always known of his obsession,” said Fitzwilliam. “I am uncertain, however, that we have ever thought in terms such as this.”

  “Then what now?” asked Hurst.

  Bingley nodded. “Knowing he wishes to gain as much of Pemberley’s wealth as he can does little to inform us of what he means to do to gain possession of it.”

  “Well,” said Darcy, “as I suggested before, it seems he has realized my interest in Miss Elizabeth, and he knows me well enough to understand that I would pay a great sum in ransom for her return.”

  “The question is, how he learned of it,” said Hurst. “My understanding is that he departed Hertfordshire in great haste when he learned of your presence. Since you were, as yet, unknown to Miss Elizabeth, he would not have been able to see it for himself.”

  “Could one of his former friends in the regiment be in contact with him?” asked Bingley.

  “Unless they are excellent actors, I doubt it,” said Fitzwilliam. “I suspect he was in Hertfordshire for some time living in that shack we found. If he had a spyglass, he could have been watching from Oakham Mount, or even risked coming into the town or the paths of the estates. It would not take much to learn of your interest, and even if he did not, he might have thought to take her and hold her for ransom anyway. Though demanding a large sum would have been his preference, he might have accepted whatever Mr. Bennet could muster.”

  “And he knows would step in,” added Bingley, looking at Darcy. “Even if you were not enamored of Miss Elizabeth, you would not wish the family to suffer.”

  Darcy gave a distracted nod. Though his father had always taught him to care for the family’s legacy, it was not inconceivable he might have acted in just such a manner if he had been at all friendly with the Bennets. Darcy did not think this was any great good in his character—it was the gentlemanly thing to do.

  “With Bingley here,” said Hurst, “not to mention me, he might have counted on all of us doing our part. In fact, one look at my brother and Miss Bennet reveals his regard for her—Wickham could have used that to his advantage too.”

  Hurst turned a lazy grin on Bingley. “Sorry to describe you in such a way, old man, but you are transparent when you have a young lady to admire.”

  “No offense taken,” said Bingley. “I am happy should all the world know of my affection for Miss Bennet. I intend to make her my wife before long, so there shall be no doubt of it regardless.”

  “That still brings us no closer to an answer concerning Wickham,” said Fitzwilliam. He resumed his pacing, which had halted while they were talking.

  It was a puzzler to be certain, and Darcy did not know what to make of it. Before these last several weeks, he would have sworn he could predict what Wickham would do given any situation. The man had ever been predictable if one knew of his greed, his resentment toward Darcy, and his limited imagination. Recent events, however, had turned everyt
hing he knew on its head, and Darcy felt himself adrift without a rudder. What action Wickham would take next was a complete mystery.

  “Here is a question,” said Hurst. “Do we know for certain the Bennet girls are Wickham’s true target?”

  Fitzwilliam frowned and halted, peering at Hurst. “He accosted Miss Elizabeth on the path only yesterday, did he not?”

  “He did,” answered Darcy. “But I thought it was odd from the beginning. Escorting Miss Elizabeth to her home was more important than chasing after Wickham, but I looked a little and could see no sign of him.”

  “Was she not fleeing from him?” asked Fitzwilliam. The genial and frivolous gentleman Fitzwilliam sometimes displayed to the world had been replaced by the professional colonel, the soldier who allowed nothing to stand in the way of his purpose.

  “She was,” replied Darcy. “When they met on the path, I believe she was still some distance away from him, and after they exchanged words, he approached her, causing her to flee.”

  “Do you know how far she ran to escape him?”

  Darcy thought for a moment and said: “I am not sure, but not far. Perhaps less than an eighth of a mile.”

  “Then why was he not hard on her heels?” asked Fitzwilliam. “Could he have known you were there?”

  “If he did, I do not know how,” said Darcy. “We had agreed to meet on the path the evening before when the Bennets were dining with us at Netherfield.” Darcy paused and fixed his cousin with a curious look. “What are you thinking, Fitzwilliam?”

  “At the moment, I do not know,” replied his cousin. “It occurs to me that he came across Miss Elizabeth on a secluded path, threatened and frightened her, causing her to run from him, and yet he made little attempt to take her.”

  “Why would he do such a thing?” asked Bingley.

  “He would if he wished to establish the fact of his presence in Hertfordshire,” said Hurst.

  As one, the three remaining gentlemen looked at Hurst, for he had spoken in a tight and concerned voice, which was so unlike the careless man with whom they were all familiar.

  “What do you mean?” asked Darcy.

  “Wickham knows you have been looking for him,” said Hurst, ticking off each point on his fingers as he proceeded. “Though a disreputable man, he is not a stupid one. While he has remained hidden in London for some time, it seems to me you will find him, sooner or later. Thus, he must throw you off the trail. Showing his face here and threatening a young woman with whom he has known to have had disagreements in the past seems an easy way to do so. By establishing his presence in Hertfordshire, he draws your attention here. By the time you arrived at the shack, he had already been gone for some time—is that not so?”

  “That is my suspicion. But why?”

  “To turn your attention away, to distract you,” said Bingley, catching on to what his brother was saying. “If you had come close to discovering his lair, a distraction would turn your attention away, giving him much needed relief.”

  “It is more than that,” insisted Hurst, his countenance now stony. “In fact, he has attempted it before. Wickham appeared to Miss Elizabeth and frightened her away, you searched for him in Hertfordshire when he has already returned to London, calling Fitzwilliam here to assist in the search, meaning Fitzwilliam is not in London any longer.”

  “And with Fitzwilliam in Hertfordshire, he might think he has a chance at the real prize,” said Darcy, understanding what they were saying.

  Hurst gave a curt nod and said: “Georgiana. She must be his target.”

  Miss Caroline Bingley suppressed the gasp which almost escaped her lips and decided it was time to withdraw, to consider all she had heard. Her sister had been so easily diverted with the suggestion they seek their rooms early that evening, for Caroline, annoyed with how their time in Hertfordshire had gone, had determined to learn something of what the gentlemen were speaking. It appeared she had uncovered more than she had bargained for.

  The moment Louisa’s door closed behind her, Caroline made her way back down the stairs and to the door of her brother’s study, and when frustrated by her inability to hear through the door, had risked opening it just a crack. When the door was open, the first thing she heard was the matter of Miss Darcy’s near disaster in Ramsgate which had shocked Caroline, for she well knew how such a story could harm the reputation of a young woman, even if she was not at fault. The rest had proceeded from there, leaving Caroline as shocked as she had ever felt in her life.

  It was fortunate no servant had come on her as she had listened behind that door, for it would have been difficult to explain her presence. As she hurried back up the stairs, convinced Mr. Darcy and Fitzwilliam would soon emerge from that room like bloodhounds following a scent, Caroline considered what she had learned.

  The possibility she could use the information and attempt to turn it to her own ends flitted about the back of Caroline’s mind. The knowledge that Miss Darcy had been the target of an unscrupulous man would not ruin her in society, but it would make for salacious gossip which would affect her coming out. Mr. Darcy would wish to avoid such an outcome—could she use that as leverage to force him to offer for her, rather than the detested Eliza Bennet?

  If she had come across such information only a week before, Caroline might have jumped at the chance. But the knowledge of Mr. Darcy’s disdain for her—and disdain it was, given some of the things he had said to her of late—caused her to pause. Since their father’s death, Caroline had always exerted great influence over her brother, and she had grown accustomed to subtly directing him. Mr. Darcy, however, was a horse of another color—she would not succeed in guiding him in any meaningful way.

  His anger should she succeed, she discounted without a second thought—he was such a gentleman she knew he would not mistreat her, regardless of whatever resentment he harbored. In fact, that might almost be better that way, for as soon as he got an heir or two from her, they could live separate lives, he with his beloved estate, she in London where she most wished to be.

  There were several problems, however. Mr. Darcy’s stature was such that he might weather whatever gossip there was, for there was every possibility he would refuse her attempts to force his hand. That was if he did not call her bluff, inform her brother of the matter, and between the two of them send to Scarborough on the next mail coach, never to be heard from again. The thought of being banished to that dingy place caused Caroline to grimace, as she opened the door to her suite and stepped inside. Her maid she had dismissed, so disrobed and prepared to retire.

  The greater consideration was that it was Georgiana Darcy she would harm should she follow through with her notion. Georgiana was, as Caroline had always noted, a pleasant young girl, though perhaps tending toward shyness which made her insipid. However, she was a good girl, and regardless of Caroline’s tendency to speak of her with praise, she found that she did possess an affection for the girl. Could Caroline threaten to harm such an unassuming creature, even for the possibility of realizing her most cherished dreams?

  As her head hit the pillow, Caroline could not help but glower at the offending article beneath her head. If it had been Eliza Bennet, Caroline could well imagine doing whatever necessary without heed to her wellbeing, for the woman was that contemptible. Georgiana Darcy, however, was a different matter, and Caroline could not find it in her heart to act to harm her. It was surprising to Caroline, but closer examination informed her she might not have acted, even had she been assured of the success of her plans.

  “This business of yielding to one’s conscience is most inconvenient!”

  The words spoken in the darkness caused mirth to well up within Caroline’s breast, and she could not stifle the giggle which escaped. Caroline well knew that envy, spite, covetousness, and greed were not admirable qualities, though the desire to ascend the heights of society had been nigh overpowering and had overwhelmed her better nature more often than not. Some boxes, however, a
s Pandora had discovered, were best left unopened.

  For the first time in many months, as Caroline drifted off to sleep, she felt light, almost free as a bird that winged through the skies. A great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

  “You think Georgiana is Wickham’s target.”

  Though Darcy spoke words with what he thought was admirable calm, inside he was a churning mass of emotions and worry. If he was to guess, he thought Fitzwilliam was in the same position, likely seasoned with a liberal helping of self-reproach.

  “Can we take that chance?” asked his cousin.

  “Of course, you cannot,” said Bingley. He moved to his desk and opened a drawer, producing paper and a pen. “Perhaps it would be best to dispatch a letter to your uncle so he may take Georgiana under his protection. I can have one of my footmen ride to London at once.”

  “Or we can go,” said Fitzwilliam, turning to Darcy.

  “That would be for the best,” said Darcy. “A footman would make good time, but unless he is familiar with London, he would need to search for my uncle’s house, and then my uncle would have to make his way to mine. We would arrive more quickly.”

  “I agree,” said Fitzwilliam.

  Bingley grinned and put the supplies back in his desk. “I expected you might say that. If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I believe I shall stay here and take word to the Bennets.”

  “There is no need for you to go, Bingley,” said Darcy. “I would appreciate your continued vigilance while we are away. If I have your permission, I shall return here with Georgiana regardless of what we discover in London.”

  “In the morning, I shall have Louisa prepare a room,” replied Bingley. “Miss Darcy is welcome at any time.”